


you are stuck with me (so i guess i'll be sticking with you)

by galaxyaesthetics



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Deja Vu, Gen, ft. mentions of other shepherds, thanks fe echoes for the lore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-14
Updated: 2018-08-14
Packaged: 2019-06-27 06:12:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15679620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galaxyaesthetics/pseuds/galaxyaesthetics
Summary: the shepherds find some ruins in the western regions of regna ferox, and robin can’t help but feel an immense sense dread as they explore the sunken city there.





	you are stuck with me (so i guess i'll be sticking with you)

**Author's Note:**

> takes place after gangrel’s defeat during the two years of peace; lucina has not yet joined the shepherds and robin has no idea that he is grima.
> 
> (this is my first time posting to ao3 and also unbeta'd so pls be gentle to your local grimafucker; also i love fe echoes for giving us grima lore thanks)

The Shepherds are making a visit to the western shores of Regna Ferox.

After the fall of the Mad King, the Shepherds had stayed in Plegia for a week, helping the common folk and making peace treaties while the country searched for a new leader. Robin had been granted the freedom to roam the libraries of Castle Plegia, and had discovered, among other intriguing finds, an ancient text about a sunken city in the west of the Archanean continent. The text was cryptic and written in an ancient tongue, but with a little research the text soon divulged tales of a powerful civilization, the tragic war that ended it, and the lost city’s last secret.

The Shepherds are, for the most part, in the region because Khan Flavia had requested that Chrom and the others assist her in taking care of a pirate problem by Port Ferox. Robin had taken the opportunity to ask Chrom for a detour, and who was he to deny Robin a side trip? Besides, he had reasoned, the Shepherds were always raring for adventure, now that the continent was at peace, and they could perhaps discover new resources in these deep ruins.

So, with Flavia’s pirate problem quickly and easily dealt with, Chrom’s Shepherds depart from Port Ferox and head east. The townspeople are glad to be finally rid of the damned pirates, and gift them with fresh supplies and a warning to watch out for bandits.

The trip through Regna Ferox’s wintry climate is not difficult; by the second day Gaius reports seeing crumbling structures poking through the snow and ice, and the pegasi return with similar reports. A desolate gateway in the center of the ruins reveals a collapsing stairway, disappearing into the darkness below.

Frederick suggests that they make camp and rest for the night before journeying down the next morning, to which the group unanimously agree. Camp is established, and dinner made, and the Shepherds settle down to sleep.

That night, Robin does not sleep well.

 -

Robin dreams of darkness. It’s impossible to see anything; both vision and sound are obscured as if submerged in dark, inky water, and the only thing Robin can feel is the _coldness_  and the inexplicable _fear_.

The morning rays rouse the Shepherds, and Robin, briefly, wonders if this dream might be an omen, if this venture might be better called off.

But then Chrom appears, with his enthusiastic smile and warm energy, and the fear melts off of Robin’s shoulders.

Dreams are just dreams. Aren’t they?

-

The labyrinthine city proves to be a treasure hoard of new information; Miriel loses her composure, in a rare display of emotion, and soon everyone’s packs are laden with artifacts and ancient writings that she _insists_ must be studied as soon as they return to camp, for the scriptures of antiquated civilizations could surely enlighten modern scholars as to the customs of several millennia past.

The bandits and stray beasts that have made a residence in the cold ruins are little trouble for the Shepherds, and yet Robin cannot help but feel a creeping sense of trepidation, growing stronger with every floor they traverse deeper underground. This place is unfamiliar; Robin has a mere few months’ worth of memories, the majority of which exist in barracks or on the battlefield with the Shepherds; and yet, this place, foreign and desolate as it is, triggers flashes of deja vu in the back of Robin’s mind. Flashes that ultimately lead nowhere, with no images to accompany them; and yet, Robin cannot help but feel drawn into the city, feet choosing the correct path at every turn—

Chrom jokes that perhaps Robin should be appointed to the position of the Halidom’s new navigator, on top of being the royal tactician. Robin laughs off his jokes, but the blood pumping in Robin’s veins is a mix of unfamiliar feelings all the same.

They make camp on the fourth floor of the labyrinth.

“At this rate, we’ll be done with this place and home with treasure by the end of the week!” Lissa says cheerily at the campfire. The others agree, in similarly good spirits. The dark tunnels, clearly, have done little to dampen their spirits, and dinner is eaten with good cheer.

“What do you think’s at the bottom of these ruins?” asks Stahl, after everyone has eaten their rations for the day. The fire is warm and cozy, despite their surroundings.

“Treasure, I’d wager. Maybe a legendary axe for Teach!” Vaike calls out, thumping a fist into the ground. “Yeah, that sounds—”

“Sweets.” Gaius interrupts. “Sweets or bust. I’m leaving if there’s nothing down there. I mean, I’ll take gold, too, but Gods, I’ll be disappointed.”

“Your thiefness, Gaius, mister,” Donnel points out mildly, “Ain’t His Royaltyful Sir Chrom say this place be over three thousand years old? I bet all the candy’s been taken by now. If I were a bandit I’d eat it all, I would.”

“You heathens! I hope you realize that any foods down in this dusty place would have long since spoiled,” Maribelle interjects, disgusted.

Sully turns to their tactician, sitting alone off to one side. “What about you, Robin? What do you think?”

Robin isn’t listening. The campfire is flickering, like a faint memory—something that should not be remembered. Something that should not be able to be remembered. The smell of herbs in the still air; the sound of many-legged insects scuttling across stone floors. Someone, a familiar stranger, working by candlelight in the darkness—

“Robin!”

Robin starts and looks back up at the rest of the Shepherds, concern dancing across their faces. Chrom is frowning. “Are you alright? Do you need to rest? It’s been a long day, after all.”

Robin blinks slowly. “N-no… I think I’m alright. I just spaced out thinking of how to handle bandit ambushes down here, that’s all.”

Chrom doesn’t look like he believes it. “Yeah, and I’ve never broken a training dummy. Alright, everyone, it’s about time we all went to bed. Tomorrow will be just as tiring as today. I’ll take first watch, then Lon’qu, then Frederick. See you all in the morning.”

Everyone disperses to their respective tents, but a thin hand taps against Robin’s shoulder and makes Robin pause. Tharja, still an outsider in the Shepherds, is standing there, a dark look marring her complexion.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed, Robin,” she rasps, “But the magic that penetrates these walls—it’s powerful. Unnatural. You should be careful as we go deeper. Should I weave you a protection hex…? One that will curse everything to lay hand on you…”

Robin smiles uncomfortably. “Th-thank you for the offer, Tharja, but I’ll be fine as long as I’m careful… aren’t you sharing a tent with some of the other girls?”

Tharja stares unnervingly with an empty smile before seemingly melting away into the darkness.

-

_The murky darkness is as impenetrable as ever, but a single light—that’s all Robin can see. Robin focuses on it like a lifeline, and all other senses slowly, gradually begin to emerge from the depths._

_First: the sound of pained groans. Then, the feeling of being submerged in liquid. Then, finally, the metallic scent and taste of blood; but the tang is less like iron, and more like… more like—_

_Robin’s eyes open._

-

At the base of the fifth floor is a gigantic set of doors. Skulls of fire dragons litter the floor, along with a tablet, its stone inscription long since worn away by time. The air on the other side of the doors is stale. Old and stifling. Even though the doors are open, the breeze does not pass through. It’s almost as though the ruins are holding their breath, waiting for

 

someone. Something.

 

Tharja’s hand grips Robin’s shoulder, and then the Shepherds are pressing on.

If the ruins before were cold, the halls here are icy, even for Regna Ferox. The passages are wide but Robin can’t help but feel claustrophobic, so deep underground.

There’s another reason; but Robin can’t quite place what it is. The frigid halls: Robin has never been here before ( _how can you be sure?_ ) and yet…

_Rows and rows of masks. The skittering noise of beetles on every flat surface. The stench of rotting flesh—unbearable, and yet Robin can’t help but want to inhale more of that lovely, i n t o x i c a t i n g scent. (Lovely? Intoxicating? No. That shouldn’t be right.) The walls are dark and cold and He is watching in the candlelight. The metallic tang that is stronger than any human’s blood is diluted by a dark, dark power and then—_

“Robin, watch out!”

Robin blinks back into reality just in time to see Chrom leap in and cut down a Risen, its axe poised above their heads like an executioner’s blade.

“Risen, this far down here?” Sully roars, and suddenly Robin is aware that the rest of the Shepherds are engaged in combat around them. How long has this been going on? How long has—it doesn’t matter. Robin pulls out an Elthunder tome and aims for the nearest corpse.

The skirmish is brief, but Robin’s lapse in attention is enough for Chrom to call for camp. While the others are setting up the tents, Chrom grabs Robin’s arm and sits them down by the fire.

“Robin,” Chrom says. Robin can’t look up. Chrom tries again, softening his voice. “Robin. What’s wrong? You’ve been out of it since we came down here, and the deeper we go the worse it gets. You’re not sick, are you? I can call for Lissa—”

“No, don’t,” Robin interrupts. Chrom looks startled, and Robin is immediately apologetic. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound so harsh.”

A moment of silence. Chrom looks somber. “Robin… if there’s anything bothering you, please, let me know and I’ll do everything in my power to help you.”

Robin’s blinks back a burning feeling and takes a deep breath. “I don’t think there’s anything you can do… I just keep feeling this sense of dread, and I get these flickering memories and strange dreams. But I’m almost certain I’ve never been here before.”

Chrom frowns. “Maybe before you lost your memories and joined us…?”

“Possibly. But you found me near the southern border, by Plegia. It seems unlikely that my past self would have travelled this far for any reason. And the things I see in these flashes…” Robin trails off. “No, nevermind. Maybe the darkness and the claustrophobia are getting to me. Thank you, Chrom.” Robin smiles. “If anything more comes up, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

“Anytime, Robin. We may have only known each other for a few months, but I do consider you one of my closest friends, alright?” Chrom offers a squeeze of the shoulder, before standing to check on the rest of the group.

Robin’s eyes slide closed, and Robin tries not to think of the anguished screams of dying men.

-

_Unblinking._

_He is watching. Robin watches back. Smiling, but not smiling. He trembles._

_Fear. Robin grins. He is feeling doubt. Uncertainty. It must be destroyed, He thinks. It cannot be allowed to exist, even if Robin is His singular and perfect creation._

_The heavenly taste of a divine dragon’s blood lingers in Robin’s mouth, and Robin dreams of a future painted in dusk and agony._

_He falls cold to the floor, and Robin emerges from the vial which was once its womb._

_And then Robin waits._

-

They reach the base of the labyrinth. The ruins, ancient as they may be, still hold sturdy.

There is a familiar sigil on the door.

“Did the Plegians once control this area?” Chrom frowns, confused. “But this place is so far from their country.”

“Perhaps this was once a sanctuary for a secret assemblage in this region,” Mirel offers.

Tharja is quiet. Upon noticing Robin’s questioning gaze, Tharja points to the door. Her face is unreadable.

“The magic in this chamber is overwhelmingly powerful… the rest of these ruins are nothing compared to this.” She scowls, narrowing her eyes. “The city of Thabes must have had some powerful dark mages, indeed…”

-

_Children of fate appear on Robin’s thousandth year of life. It became tedious to count, after the first two hundred years._

_The children are strong, but only enough so to force Robin to take a nap._

_Robin waits._

-

Robin is nearly petrified at the sight of the door. The sigil is ancient but means nothing ( _is_ _that what you want to believe?_ ) and yet, it is oh so familiar, adorning not only Tharja’s robes, but Robin’s own sleeves.

_What does this all mean_ , Robin wants to ask. But the Shepherds press on, and Robin, trembling, steps forward, one foot at a time, to catch up.

-

_Robin’s defeat at the hands of the First Exalt is infuriating._

_Naga, that meddling bitch—divine dragons are truly the lowest of the low. But Robin recalls the taste of divine dragon blood that it was incubated in, and the exhilaration of knowing such sweet nectar, borne of destruction; and so Robin bides its time._

_One day, Naga will fall. And with her, the rest of the continent, and soon the world._

_Robin waits._

-

Disappointingly, the final chamber turns out to be quite empty.

The air is heavy and stale, but there is no treasure hidden amongst the rubble, nor any sweets nor even any legendary weapons; just a single rusted ring sits at the back of the chamber.

Miriel picks up the ring, looks it once over, and hands it to Robin.

“Please keep this under your supervision,” she sniffs. “Anything we find here could be grounds for exhaustive, comprehensive research.”

“I’m quitting the Shepherds,” they hear Gaius shouting in disbelief. The rest of the Shepherds seem similarly disappointed, but Robin can’t help but heave a sigh of relief.

Maybe it really was just the darkness and claustrophobia acting on the fears of the mind.

Chrom is talking with Frederick and Lissa, but looks glad to see Robin who shuffles up to their circle.

“So this might have all been a giant waste of time, but hey, at least nothing bad happened, right?” He grins. “There could have been a giant evil beast we needed to fight down here. Instead we just get a look at the history of our world. Not the worst venture we’ve ever been on.”

Robin manages a weak smile. “I suppose you’re right, Chrom. Let’s leave this place and head back for Ylisse; at least Miriel and the other historians back home will have their hands busy for the next few years.”

 

As they leave, Robin’s veins are pulsing with anxiety, but in the end, nothing happens.

**Author's Note:**

> awakening fic? in 2018? its more likely than you think
> 
> fhsdjljk anyways kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated, thanks for making it this far through this hunk of trash


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